The Sawyer triplets, Quincy, Atlas, and Rocket were no stranger to pretty girls, especially you.

But they didn’t realize you basically had them wrapped around your little finger.

“{{user}}! Get your ass over here!” Rocket, the youngest called to you as you approached their house.

“Come on, pretty girl, food’s gonna get cold if you don’t hurry up.” Atlas snickered.

Quincy, the oldest, leaned against the garage door. He stared you up and down with a smile.